


An Open Door

by behappy



Series: A Good Time [2]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Cute Date, First Kisses, M/M, Smut, almost sexy time, fun fun fun, mentions of almost kiss, poop in soup, warning: throw up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/behappy/pseuds/behappy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack unknowingly uses Frozen to describe his feelings for Mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Open Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MariaMediaOverThere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaMediaOverThere/gifts).



> This is the second part to A Good Time, the sequel to Like A Loser.
> 
> Enjoy!

        "I like your face." Mark sucks in a breath.

  
        "Hm?" He pulls out his earphones.

  
        "I asked if your eyes are still hurting."

  
        The pair had settled in Jack's room, Mark playing a game on his phone while Jack does coursework. Mark had been staring for a while now, but Jack had either not caught on or had been too embarrassed to point it out to the redhead.

  
        "It's been almost a week, ya doof."

  
        Mark scratches the back of his neck. "I know, but it could still-- Itch?"

  
        "Okay, Mark." Jack replies condescendingly.

  
        Looking at the time on his phone, Mark decides it's time to nut up or shut up.

  
        "Wanna go get a bite to eat?"

  
        "It's only four." Jack doesn't look up from his laptop. "I mean, I'm hungry, but we don't have'ta go out yet."

  
        Mark shrinks back into Jack's desk chair. "Never mind."

  
        "But now ye made me hungry." Jack closes his laptop with a sigh, swinging his legs over his twin sized bed.

  
        When Mark was first allowed into Jack's room, he immediately enjoyed the layout. Desk in the far corner, bed right next to it, then a TV and Xbox console with a couch taking up most of the space. Mark realized Jack was as much as a gaming nerd as he was.

  
        "Pizza?"

  
        "Pizza." Jack nods then shrugs. "Dunno why people are so obsessed with pizza. Like, I understand it's amazin' and all, but do people have'ta post non-stop about it? It is  _really_  that important?"

  
        Mark chuckles, then feigning seriousness in his reply. "Never thought you would feel so strongly about this."

  
        "It's my major. I wanna be a Pizzologist."

  
        Mark loses his shit right then and there, gaining the attention of fellow students passing by. Jack looks rather impressed by the American's lack of shame, seeming to find it endearing.

  
        The local pizza shop down the block is filled with students. Mark recognizes some, greets them, and continues to find an empty booth for him and Jack.

  
        "What do ya want?"

  
        "I was thinking just some classic pepperoni." Mark answers, wiggling on the cold, plush booth seat to get comfortable.

  
        "Mm, sounds good'ta me."

  
        Mark grins. "Booper dooper."

  
        They order their pizza and drinks from the waiter making his rounds, chatting about this and that. The air around them is jubilant, the young adults all smiling with Italian goodness entering their bodies.

  
       Silence creeps upon the two and Jack asks, "Why're ye lookin' at me like that?"

  
        Mark, unaware of his undeniably fond stare, shakes his head. "What? I wasn't staring."

  
        "Okay." Jack giggles.

  
        "Are you aware of how cute your giggle is?" Mark lets out without thinking.

  
        Jack's mouth pulls into a straight line.

  
        "I'm sorry. That sounded so weird."

  
        "Can I just... Say something crazy?"

  
        "I love crazy!"

  
        "All my life has been a series of doors in my face. And then suddenly I met you. Now love is an open door." Jack breathes quickly, scratching the back of his neck.

  
        Mark frowns. "Are you making fun of me?"

  
        "What? Why would I do that?"

  
        "You don't have to tease me just cause I like you."

  
        Jack scrunches his eyebrows up in confusion. "I don't know what yer talkin' about, Mark."

  
        "Quoting from  _Frozen_?"

  
        "What? Oh. I swear I didn't knowingly quote Frozen. I forgot about that song. I-- Well, I like you."

  
        And, well, oh.  _Oh_.

  
        "So, the other day when we almost... You know... You wanted that?"

  
        Jack nods. "Yeah. But  _you_  were being a doof."

  
        "Woah. This is--" The words get caught in his throat. "Okay."

  
        Their dinner slash lunch goes over weirdly. Part of Mark wants to ravish Jack with kisses and fuck him till he's oversensitive, but the other part of him wants to take him back to Jack's room and cuddle forever.

  
        The walk back to Jack's dorm room is more tense than Mark expected. He wants to reach out for Jack's hand, but he stops himself. He isn't sure if it's too soon or too public.

  
        "Duuude!" Jack begins to bounce on the balls of his feet once they reach his door. "I just got this game where ye can poop in soup or somethin'!"

  
        Mark laughs. "Poop in soup? Sounds hilarious."

  
        And they sit on Jack's couch, Mark's head in Jack's lap as he watches the Irishman shit on people. Literally. Mark tries to avoid shifting his head too much because, although his head in only rubbing his thighs, Mark would like to keep Jack's sword holstered.

  
        "Wait," Mark suddenly speaks, cutting Jack off from his happy ramble. "Was this all a date, then?"

  
        "Yeah." Jack answers offhandedly. He sounds like he has no idea what it is he's answering.

  
        Mark turns his head, biting Jack's jean-covered knee. "Pay attention to meeee."

  
        "Hold on, I'm poopin' on people."

  
        With a huff, Mark sits up and pouts childishly. He sits, arms crossed and pout prominent, but that still doesn't get Jack's attention. Mark realizes that the only thing that ever seems to fully obtain the attention of a man is through sexual attraction.

  
        "Jack." Mark's voice cracks awkwardly and he cringes. Sexual has never been his thing.

  
        He opts for purring out, "Jaaack."

  
        His gaze on the TV falters and Jack gives Mark a side look, not stopping his game. Mark takes that as an 'okay' to carry on his persistent, attention-seeking actions.

  
        One of Mark's hands combs through Jack's hair, the other settling itself on the upper part of Jack's thigh. Mark nuzzles his face against Jack's neck, pressing an experimental kiss to the soft, pale skin. Jack sucks in a breath, still not giving into Mark's desperation. His lips latch onto the patch of skin, sucking tentatively.

  
        "Fuck it." Jack pushes Mark down onto his back, falling on top of the thicker man.

  
        Their lips connect for the first time, sending a shock up Mark's spine. He arches up into the kiss, sitting up on his elbows. Jack, seeming more eager than his partner, rubs his tongue on Mark's lower lip. He opens his mouth to the Irishman, allowing the boy on top to explore his mouth. Neither of them can even bother to care that they taste of pepperoni because all they seem to be able to do is feel  _feel_   ** _feel_**.

  
        Mark's right hand caresses Jack's cheek, the other resting on the boys' hip. "Umph."

  
        Jack pulls away, hands on Mark's chest. "Wow, you've got quite the mouth, Mr. Markimoo."

  
        "I--" His stomach churns uncomfortably. "Oh, God. I'm gonna throw up."

  
        Mark rushes to Jack's bathroom, collapsing on his knees.

  
        Jack, left in shock on the couch, frowns. He hears Mark heaving and vomiting, making Jack squirm.

  
        "Jaaack." Mark calls unhappily.

  
        Jack gets up, leaning against the door frame when he gets to the small bathroom. "You okay?"

  
        "I don't feel too good." Mark whines, flushing the toilet and hobbling onto his feet.

  
        The raven-haired man washes his mouth with water, groaning with his head in the sink. Jack rubs his back, trying to ignore the slight hurt building in his chest from having made Mark throw up.

  
        "I'm that bad, huh?"

  
        "No." Mark turns to the Irishman. "No, no, no. I haven't been feeling good since this morning. Wade told me to stay home, but I wanted to come hang out with you."

  
        "Yeah, okay." Jack sighs, turning around.

  
        "Jack," Mark rests a hand on his shoulder. "Your mouth is a gift from God. I would say we could try again, but my mouth is ew."

  
        "It's ew?" Jack cracks a smile, but Mark's unable to see it.

  
        He hears the playful tone in his voice, though. "Very ew."

  
        "Head home, get rest." Jack orders. "I'll bring ya soup or  somethin' domestic tomorrow."

  
        "Are you trying to get rid of me?" Mark sobs exaggeratedly.

  
        "No, ya doof. I want ya to get better."

  
        Mark leaves Jack's room, stomach unsettled and smile wide.

  
        "I threw up in his bathroom. He took it surprisingly well." Mark sets a bucket next to his bed, in case his stomach threatens to vomit again.

  
        "I say that's a win." Wade replies. "The first time I threw up in front of Molly, she threw up, too. It was the worst date ever. There was throw up in her car and all over us. And we couldn't stop after that."

  
        Mark gags. "Stop. You're gonna make me throw up."

  
        "Sorry, sorry." Wade gives, face focused on his computer screen. "Well, at least your first date went well?"

  
        And, right. Okay.

**Author's Note:**

> So my obsession with septiplier is increasing...


End file.
